


7.) A bump in the night

by BitterTeaBouquet



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Whoop here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 16:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19727461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTeaBouquet/pseuds/BitterTeaBouquet
Summary: Simon tries to figure out what to do next.Chapter 7 of the Carry On Round Robin. Trope- A football moment. (I took this a bit differently than expected)





	7.) A bump in the night

**Author's Note:**

> Simon tries to figure out what to do next. 
> 
> Chapter 7 of the Carry On Round Robin. Trope- A football moment. (I took this a bit differently than expected)

Dinner with Penny is unbearable. All I want to do is run back up to our room and finish what I started. The images of Baz’s soft eyes and gaping mouth haunt me. I am not paying attention to whatever Penny is jabbering about, my mind is too far away to even fake responses. Eventually, she gives up and stares at her food, same as me.

Agatha comes to sit beside us, with a deep frown. “Simon,” she says, “Did you say anything to Baz?”

Penny looks up with the same expression, “Yes. What was it that you two were doing before I came in? You both looked like scared cats.”

I swallow. I’m not about to tell them anything, especially not about his sexuality. Agatha shoots me a glance, with something glimmering in her eye. I try not to think of it as I kiss my teeth.

“Nothing. I didn’t say or do anything,” I lie.

Agatha presses, “Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

She sighs and lays her head on her hand. Her hair falls perfectly over her ashen face and I suppress my urge to push it back behind her shoulder. I shouldn’t be touching her and kissing other people. Or- trying too. Her eyes are downcast to the table, she shuffles and toys with what I think is the hem of her skirt.

Penny glances between us and upon seeing my grimace, fixes her attention to Agatha. The less of two evils, I suppose.

“Did you talk to Baz, Ag’s?”

She rolls her eyes, “Does it matter?”

“Well, you’re off accusing Simon of saying something to him and here you are holding out on us. What did you two talk about?” She pushes her half-full plate towards me and I leap on it like a tiger leaps on a gazelle.

She throws up her hands and scoffs. Clenched in one is a white handkerchief. In the corner, there is a flash of deep purple and black designs. Embroidery, by the looks of it. The only person I know who has silk handkerchiefs and not only irons them but also embroiders them is Baz.

My jaw sets. What is he doing, giving things to her? What game is he trying to play? He says he loves me, which I believe is true, but he goes around giving people his personal items? I’m not even allowed to touch his things. I take deep breaths, not unaware of the heads starting to turn in our direction. Agatha is saying something and Penny’s attention drifts to me. I try to force myself back in the moment.

“-not like it matters anyway!” She snaps, “It was just a chat. He said he needed time to himself and I felt bad for him.”

My own voice surprises me, “Why would he give that to you then?” I nod to her hand, which has returned under the table.

“How did yo- It doesn’t matter. It was just a conversation, Simon. No need to look like I betrayed you.”

She isn’t the one I feel betrayed by.

I push away from the table and march away without a second glance. Penny calls after me and even tries to follow, but Agatha grabs her hand and tells her to sit down. I hope Agatha will keep Baz’s sexuality to herself. Penny is smart enough to connect the dots.

I wait up in the room for his return, but as it nears 11 o’clock my eyes drifted close on their own agenda. Each time I shook myself out of the small naps I would find that more time had passed with each one. Finally, with the weight of a blanket pressed on me, I let myself drift off.

I wake to a jostle of the door handle. I bound out of my blankets and up and my feet. Clambering to the door, I try to think off the things I will say to him. Should I start with a hello? Or straight to kissing him then questioning him about Agatha? I consider that kissing someone without asking first is rude and he might kill me for it (anathema or not) as I punt one of his footballs out of my path. I reach for the door handle blindly in the darkness, wondering why the lights are out if I had fallen asleep with them on. With no real plan, I twist the handle and feel the swoosh of air past my face as I whip open the door.

Instead of a glowering Baz, I meet eyes with a dirty blonde- almost Brunette- fellow. I recognize him as Niall, one of Baz’s minions. He is still dressed in his uniform, which is dishevelled and covered in dust bunnies. I glare at him and must look just as frightening as he does because he steps back and clutches something to his chest.

“What do you want?” I say, the words almost coming out as a growl because of my husky voice.

“Aleister Crowley!” He swears, “I was just returning Baz’s wand.”

He uncurls it from his chest and shows me the polished dark wood. I reach out and grab the tip, snatching it away from him. He looks concerned for a moment, then must realize that Baz and I share a room and then relents.

I twiddle it in my fingers, “What were you doing with it?”

“Can’t I just go back to bed?” He whines.

I cross my arms and square my shoulders.

“It’s for wand studies. The midterm is tomorrow,” He scowls, “I was studying and Baz let me use it. I’m going to bed now.”

I watch his retreating back disappear down the stairs and wait until I can’t hear the sounds of his stomping before closing the door.

Without the glimmer of light from the hallway, my eyes take time to adjust to the darkness. Luckily I know the map of the room by heart. That was an experiment I did in first year, walking around with my eyes closed. It drove Baz crazy.

There is a shuffling noise from the other side of the room. I look up and see a lump in Baz’s bed move. I sigh. He was here the whole time. As I chide myself for not noticing sooner I take a step and land on something that wasn’t there before.

It rolls underfoot, I flail my arms back to avoid falling but am too late. I plumber to the ground, my right hand catching on my desk chair and pulling it with me. There is the crash of wood on wood, then the dull thump of my body. My head snaps back, and I cry out.

Not a second after, the lamp is on and Baz is sitting ram-rod straight.

“Snow, what the fuck.”

I attempt to sit up but the throbbing in my head protests, so I settle back down and wheeze. My heart is booming in my chest, I can hear it thrum in my ears as well.

“Owwww,” I groan and let my hands go slack to cup the back of my head. His wand flops on my chest, then clatters to the floor. His eyes narrow and he hops out of bed towards me.

“Is that- Are you- ack!” He stumbles over a football near the foot of my bed. He kicks it towards me.

“This,” He gestures, “Is why you will never play football. You’re supposed to kick the ball, not fall on it.”

“This is all your fault. You’re the one who leaves their crap around the room.”

He crouches next to me, “If I remember correctly, which I do, then you’re the one who asked to borrow it last week,” He reaches out for his wand, “Which means this has nothing to do with me.”

He passes his wand and goes to my wrist. He wraps his cool, slender fingers around it and pulls it away from my forehead with ease. My breath catches as he leans in closer, overtop of me. He sucks on the bottom part of his lip as he peers at my head.

“Sit up,” He barely has to command, I am so jumpy that I sit up with little help. He puts a hand on my shoulder to push me until My chest is up against my knees.

He brushes through my hair. A shiver travels down my back and I give an involuntary hum of enjoyment. He pauses for a second, then continues.

He pulls back after who knows how long and sits back on his heels.

“I don’t see any cuts. I guess you didn’t hit your head on anything.”

I don’t tell him that I knew this already. I considered telling him that I felt something on the other side of my head so he would touch there too. I glance over at him and stare. His hair is greasy, it sticks to his neck and forehead. His eyes are half-lidded in exhaustion and his mouth is pressed in a thin line. I want to kiss him.

I uncurl myself and lean forward. I have to crane my neck oddly but it doesn’t matter. As long as I finally get to see what it feels like, to see if I really do want him the way he wants me. I fear that I won’t, that this all has been some mistake and I might break his heart. Or worse, this whole thing could be one of his scheme’s. I shut off all my thinking and file it away for later.

I leave my eyes open, just so I don’t crash faces with him, and brush our noses. His shoulders tense and his eyes slam shut. I can feel the path his breath traces on my face. I worry he can hear how hard my heart is beating. This time it is completely different from the adrenaline I felt before.

Just as our lips brush, he reaches out and holds me away.

“I know. Agatha told me,” He struggles to speak, sometimes leaning towards me like the temptation is too much.

“Wot?”

“She said that- that you told her I was gay. And that she knows that I- I…. I like you.”

I flinch, “I never told her-,”

“She’s not like you, she could piece it together on her own,” I try to speak again but he shushes me, “And she told me that you were straight. That you probably just were curious. That you didn’t _really_ like me.”

I growl.

“I understand, I really do,” He pulls away from me, his expression blank, “But I can’t do this. You’re going to break my….”

I grab his wrist and pull him back to his knees, “That’s bullshit. I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you. She doesn’t know what she is saying.”

“She was upset about it. Crying.”

“She was probably crying over the fact she can’t have you. Baz, I can’t just be the one feeling this tension between us. Please, just let me kiss you.”

“Simon…”

_And then he kisses me._


End file.
